


Do You Ever Think . . .

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: This little fic is based on a line prompt (sort of see title), requesting a Finn/Chloe scene. Angst ahoy!





	

“ _Do you ever think we should just stop this?_ ” 

*

Finn’s breath catches at her question. _All the time_ , flits across his mind but he doesn’t say a word, just shrugs

“It isn’t healthy, meeting like this. For either of us.” She drags the spoon through the sugar bowl on the table, a nervous habit that Finn has taken note of before.

He sighs. “You’re right. It’s just … no one else understands. They all tell me to … you know …”

“Get over it?” Chloe drops the spoon, the stem clanking against the bowl.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Finn glances up at the ancient waitress perched on a stool by the till. He and Chloe have been meeting at this tearoom once a week for almost six months. Ever since she left.

He clears his throat. “Well, since we’re here,” he begins, knowing she already knows what he’s about to ask. “Have you heard anything from her?”

Chloe looks down into her half-empty tea cup, hesitates a moment, then says, “Yeah, she called on Sunday, we chatted for a few minutes before she had to go to the pub with her … with some people. I think her roommate and a couple of others from her hall.”

Finn bites the inside of his cheek. Barely moving his jaw he asks, “How’d she sound?”

Chloe looks up at this, eyes full of pity. “Good, Finn. Better. She sounded … busy. Happy, even. Maybe happy to be busy.”

The muscles in his jaw clench without him meaning to, and he nods. “I’m glad. That’s … I’m happy to hear it.” He knows he doesn’t sound happy, but he is happy … for her. All he’s ever wanted is for her to be happy.

Chloe leans forward, her hand inching across the table towards Finn’s, which has formed into a fist. She doesn’t touch him, though. That’s not what this is. “Erm, she did say … she did mention that she might … visit soon.” Her voice is trying hard to sound nonchalant.

Finn’s eyebrows shoot halfway up his forehead, and he looks down at his lap to hide his reaction. “Oh, yeah?” The two syllables sound like they’re being strangled out of him. She won’t want to see him. She’s made excuses the last two times, and he doesn’t know if he can take her avoiding all contact again. He clears his throat. “She say when?”

Chloe’s hands retreat a little. He can’t see her face with his head so low, but he listens for inflections in her tone, anything that might give him a grain of hope, or a hint of warning.

“Weekend after next, she said.” She rubs one thumb over the other, then rotates the ring on her middle finger. “Said something about getting a drink with everyone.”

Finn looks up at that, can’t keep his head down at that. Chloe’s face is nearly a mask. Her eyes are a little sad, but they always seem that way. Her mouth is carefully even. Not smiling, not frowning, no trace of a smirk.

“Everyone-everyone? Or … ?” He wants to kick himself for sounding so pathetic, so eager, after months of radio silence.

“Just said everyone, but … I think … I think, yes. Everyone-everyone.” She allows the smallest of smiles, to show him she means it.

“Huh. Well, I’ll …” He doesn’t know what he’ll do. Should he chance it? One look from her will be enough to know whether she meant … everyone. “Maybe I’ll swing by. If you let me know when.”

“I will, Finn. I will.” She stands up from the table, but he’s barely aware of her movement. “See you next week?” The cadence sounds like a question, but they both know the answer.

Finn nods as she leaves.


End file.
